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Quirrell struggled to read the contents of the book. The young wizards had grown used to his poor performance. According to Quirrell, he was cursed by several dark creatures at the same time, which forced him to use a lot of energy to fight against the curse. Although everyone sympathized, they still felt helpless. Defense Against the Dark Arts should have been the most exciting course, but now it was like this.
Many students had already begun to slack off, read extracurricular books, or do homework for other subjects. Regardless of what Quirrell did, the professor would keep reading from the textbook until the bell rang as long as no one interrupted him. Perhaps the only good thing was that he never checked the homework.
Wayne's arm rested on the table, supporting his chin, somewhat worried. Perhaps Quirrell no longer cared about his probing, or maybe Wayne had repeated the tactic too many times. Recently, Wayne had been able to earn fewer and fewer points by making things difficult for Quirrell in class. It wasn't as effective as it used to be. But with such a good opportunity in front of him, Wayne felt uncomfortable if he didn't at least try.
Seeing that no one was paying attention in class, Wayne sighed and made a decision. "Professor," Wayne said without raising his hand. It was actually quite rude, but if he raised his hand, Quirrell would just ignore him. "Professor," Wayne repeated. Finally, Quirrell reluctantly stopped reading.
"What's the problem, Mr. Lawrence?" All the students perked up, eager for some amusement.
"Do you still remember our agreement?" Wayne asked politely. "If you teach me a powerful spell this class, I will give you a vial of Phoenix Tears."
The little wizards gasped in awe. Phoenix Tears! That's valuable and can be sold for a lot of money.
"This... this..." Quirrell was tempted, yet he remembered Voldemort's command. "Don't agree, you fool! You'll expose yourself." Voldemort's voice echoed in Quirrell's mind.
What would the other students think if Wayne succeeded? Would they also demand spells in exchange for gifts? Even if Phoenix tears tempted him, Quirrell knew he couldn't agree. Following his master's orders, he said, "You are still laying your foundations. Learning powerful spells too early won't help."
Wayne persisted, "But I heard from senior students that you didn't teach any magic in their classes either. It's all just studying, but with a different book."
Quirrell blushed, mumbling, "Teaching, not just studying." He went on with a long, complicated explanation about the dangers of magic spells and the importance of foundations. The students laughed, and the classroom was filled with merriment.
Wayne concluded, "Professor, did you buy your position? No wonder Cedric told me that the food at Hogwarts has improved this year."
Cedric, who was weeding the devil's ivy in the greenhouse, sneezed and woke the plant. Eventually, he managed to untangle himself, puzzled. "Weird, why did I sneeze all of a sudden?"
Back in the classroom, Quirrell, angry for the first time, deducted five points from Hufflepuff. Wayne had achieved his goal and ceased his efforts.
After class, roommate Norman found Wayne in the crowd, confused. "Why don't I feel like you're in a good mood today?"
"It doesn't count," Wayne shook his head. "It just feels like a waste of time to have such a professor. What do you think we'll learn this year?"
Norman shared his sadness. So far, they had only learned a repelling spell through self-study. What was taught in class was completely useless. Many young wizards around them showed agreement.
A girl from Ravenclaw tried to comfort him, "Wayne, you don't have to worry too much. I heard the Defense Against the Dark Arts position has a curse. No one stays for a full year."
"One year..." Wayne shook his head, regretfully. "Hogwarts is only seven years. Wasting a year is a loss, especially for fifth and seventh graders with upcoming exams." He left, sad.
Wayne's words spread among the houses. Fifth and seventh graders were truly unhappy. OWL and NEWT examiners didn't care how the professor taught. They followed Ministry of Magic requirements, leaving seniors struggling, reliant on self-study and talent. Even so, they could only grumble in private and study harder.
Night fell. Tomorrow was the weekend, making Hufflepuff's common room particularly busy.
"Ahem! Everyone!" Wayne used a spell to amplify his voice. All eyes focused on him.
"Wayne, what's wrong?" Cedric asked, confused.
"Don't interrupt," Wayne scolded, pulling out a piece of parchment. "Do you know the cost of bread—oh, wrong paper." Laughter erupted.
Curious, everyone waited as he produced another parchment. Silence fell over the room.
"Dear Hufflepuff classmates and seniors, Defense Against the Dark Arts is crucial. We have the best headmaster, the strongest white wizard of the century. We have the strictest yet most capable Transfiguration professor. We have the kindest herbalist and a very patient Charms professor who has won dueling awards. And, we have a Potions professor who, despite his attitude and partiality, is highly skilled. However, we lack a competent Defense Against the Dark Arts professor to teach us real magic."
The room's smiles faded. Cedric tried to stop him, but Wayne continued, "This is Hogwarts' darkest period. We will waste a year, learning nothing useful from Defense Against the Dark Arts, which is vital for our exams. While professors deserve respect, our needs must be taken seriously."
"It's been a month, and what have we learned to protect ourselves? Very little. Our enemy has appeared, threatening Hogwarts' image and Dumbledore's harmony. I must act! If I'm expelled for this, I'll miss you all."
At the mention of expulsion, Hannah stood up silently, as if wanting to say something.
"Wayne, what are you going to do?"
"I am going to write a report to the principal about Professor Quirrell's inaction. Even if I fail, Quirrell will not be in trouble." Wayne showed a bitter smile. "By then, everyone may get a new, good professor."
"Wayne, forget it," one of the little badgers said, moved by Wayne's determination. "We can also study by ourselves. Although it is a little slower, we can still learn something."
Wayne showed a disgusted expression. "How many self-taught students does Hufflepuff have?" Everyone was stunned. The little badgers usually listen to lectures in class, but after class, there is really no one studying, mainly on their own.
"Don't worry about me!" Wayne blew his nose. "Tomorrow morning, I will send a report letter to the principal's office!" After saying that, he turned around, walked into the men's dormitory passage, and went back to his room. A bunch of little badgers were left looking at each other. No one wanted Wayne to be fired, but they couldn't persuade him.
Cedric gritted his teeth and said, "I'll write a report letter too! With Wayne alone, the principal will be very angry, so I have to help him share some of the burden. The tradition of Hufflepuff is unity."
After hearing Cedric's idea, everyone nodded. Susan Bones said loudly, "Count me in; my aunt works at the Ministry of Magic. I can talk to her too."
"Count me in too!" another chimed in.
"And me!"
Almost everyone started to respond, taking out parchment and quills to write a report letter. Wayne, who was lying in his room and eavesdropping, showed a knowing smile.
Early the next morning, all the little badgers were waiting for Wayne in the lounge. Surrounded by his two roommates, Wayne finally walked out of the dormitory. Everyone held new envelopes in their hands. Shocking cheers erupted in the lounge, and then everyone rushed out of the common room. They did not go to their favorite dining hall but walked directly upstairs.
Hundreds of little wizards formed a small torrent. The other students who saw them were stunned and didn't understand what was happening. Harry, who had just come downstairs, met Wayne and the others. Ronald shivered.
"Why do I feel a sense of danger?"
Harry ignored Ronald's complaints and asked in confusion, "What are you going to do? Look at the direction... is it going to the eighth floor?"
"What's on the eighth floor?" Ronald asked.
Harry thought for a long time and finally took out a map. "The principal's room!"
"Wayne, is this it? How do we get the letter to the principal?"
When they arrived on the eighth floor, everyone suddenly became nervous. Their original aggressiveness turned into caution. They walked very quietly, just like walking at night.
Wayne shook his head. "No, the principal's office has its own mailbox. We can just put the letters in the mailbox." Hearing what he said, the little badgers breathed a sigh of relief. Arriving at the door of the principal's office, they saw the familiar gargoyle. Perhaps sensing Wayne's arrival, the gargoyle, which had been sleeping with its eyes closed, suddenly woke up.
"Huh? It's you, kid. Why are you here so early? Dumbledore probably hasn't gotten up yet."
"The password has been changed. It's Lemon Drop. Say it quickly so I can open the door for you."
The little wizards behind were dumbfounded. This guard was really dedicated to his duty. Fearing that Wayne wouldn't remember the password, it told him specifically. At this time, the gargoyle also realized there were many people behind Wayne and asked with some confusion, "What are they here for? I can let you in alone but not the others."
"No need," Wayne waved his hand. "I'm not here to see the principal. I wrote him a letter. Please hand it over to him for me."
"That's it," the gargoyle said. "Then let him in. I will remind the principal later." Wayne didn't hesitate and put the letter directly into the gargoyle's mouth.
"Is this the mailbox?" Cedric tugged on Wayne's clothes and whispered.
"Yes, put your letters in too. After putting them in, we'll go have dinner." Summoning his courage, Cedric also threw his letter into the gargoyle's mouth.
"Eh? You also have a letter for Dumbledore. Wait, what are you going to do? No, hurry up, stop it. It's going to be full! Don't be so rough! Be gentle!"
Finally, when the last little wizard stuffed the letter into the gargoyle's mouth, it swallowed all the letters with tears in its eyes. Its belly was visibly bigger.
"Thank you for your hard work," Wayne said, patting the gargoyle's head. "Be sure to remind the principal." After saying that, he ran away with the little badgers. Everyone had a blush on their faces. It was so exciting.
In the history of Hogwarts, there had never been such a grand occasion where a whole school house collectively complained against a professor. They were about to be recorded in history! It's a big deal!
There are no secrets in Hogwarts. In less than a day, the news that all of Hufflepuff complained about Quirrell spread like a whirlwind throughout the school. When everyone first heard this shocking news, their first reaction was disbelief. However, every Hufflepuff student confirmed it, and many people saw them walking towards the upper floors in the morning.
In an instant, the whole school exploded! Hufflepuff has always been the most low-key house, never causing trouble. Other houses would not provoke them. The sense of existence was extremely thin. Even parents told their children that if you have no distinct traits, you will be sorted into Hufflepuff.
But this time, Hufflepuff did something big that Gryffindor envied, Slytherin laughed at, and Ravenclaw respected.
At dinner time, the atmosphere in the great hall was extremely strange. There were only a few teachers present at the staff table. The positions of professors Dumbledore, Snape, and Quirrell were all vacant. Professor Sprout was so restless that she held her knife and fork backwards.
"Sprout," Professor McGonagall sighed. "You should have stopped them."
Professor Sprout put down her utensils helplessly. "Do you think I didn't want to? The problem is... I only found out this afternoon."
Professor McGonagall's eyelids jumped in shock. "They didn't tell you about such a big thing?" She couldn't believe this was something Hufflepuff could do. If it were Gryffindor, she wouldn't be so surprised.
In fact, what Professor McGonagall didn't know was that after learning about the badgers' feat, the lion cubs also took action. How could Hufflepuff be so exclusive in something so public? In one afternoon, the gargoyle had nearly a hundred more complaint letters from Gryffindors in its belly.
Of course, McGonagall didn't know this now. She quickly asked Sprout, "What's going on? Who caused this?"
On the side, Professor Flitwick also cast a concerned look. Sprout smiled bitterly. "It's Mr. Lawrence."
The two professors were stunned. Lawrence? Are today's first-year students already so bold?
At Hufflepuff's table, Wayne was surrounded by a group of people, including Hufflepuff and Gryffindor. The Weasley twins were even more submissive.
"Wayne, this is so cool! We never dreamed we could do something like this!"
Boom! A figure roughly squeezed through the crowd, came to Wayne, and pulled him out without any explanation.
"Wow," Cedric exclaimed softly. "Not the Gryffindor one. This is... Ravenclaw's new Seeker?"